


Ill Intent

by Oboeist3



Category: Welcome to Hell, w2h
Genre: First Kisses, Fluff, M/M, Mathlete Sock is the Best Sock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 12:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2620976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oboeist3/pseuds/Oboeist3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sock was annoyed. There were many reasons this could have been, being dead, having a pun-savvy Jerseyite as his boss, not being allowed to kill things, but one in particular stuck out. Jonathan was ignoring him. He'll have to find a way to fix that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ill Intent

Sock was annoyed. There were many reasons this could have been, being dead, having a pun-savvy Jerseyite as his boss, not being allowed to kill things, but one in particular stuck out. Jonathan was ignoring him. It wasn’t the disillusionment with humanity kind of ignoring - they’d gotten past that point - nor the pissed off kind like after Sock had accidentally phased in the bathroom while he was showering. No, this was the ‘I have three quizzes and a test tomorrow and I need to well on all of them’ kind of ignoring, which was arguably the worst. With the others, he took the active effort to ignore him, but with this he wasn’t really aware he was doing it, so lost in his cramming. It didn’t help that Sock had discovered something really cool that he wanted to show his mission/friend.

"Hey Jonny~" he said, hovering above a desk overflowing with papers and coffee cups in varied states of half-drunkenness. An all nighter was never a pretty sight.

"Not now Sock." he dismissed, waving a hand to shoo him like a fly.

"But I found something cool about my powers! I can touch things with ill intent! Here, watch." he said, picking up a piece of paper - covered in doodles and slanted History notes - and ripping it in half. He looked at him expectantly, but Jonathan hadn’t even looked up from his paper.

Sock huffed and floated to the other side of the room, knocking over Jonathan’s stack of preciously organized Valhalla Soundbox CDs, spilling them across the floor. Still the teen was silent.

The demon steamed for a few minutes before contemplating his next move. What could he do that would catch his attention without angering him? Destroying was out of the question, as was anything that might alert the teenager’s parents to his presence. And then he thought of it. An idea. An awful idea. A awful, wonderful idea.

He made his way back to the desk, once again hovering just above eye level, grinning widely and staring at Jonathan until he sighed and slid off one of his headphones.

"Look Sock, I don’t have time for- mph!" The rest of his sentence was cut off as the skirt-wearing demon grabbed his face and kissed him, all eagerness and inexperience, over almost as soon as it started, leaving him shell shocked.

"Oh Providence, your face!" said Sock, curling up slightly as he laughed his ass off, sounding somewhat like a dying seal. It was just so priceless.

His smugness was soon wiped off his face as fingers curled around the flaps of his hat and pulled him into another kiss, this one neater and far too deep for a joke, the distraction he’d originally intended it as. But he didn’t mind it, no not at all.

When Jonathan finally pulled away, red faced and sheepish, Sock knew he was screwed. That was too adorable to ignore.

"How was that ill intent?" the teen muttered, his gaze flicking up to look at him, wearing an expression he’d never seen before. Like he was preparing for disappointment.

Pushing aside the initial urge to point out he  _had_  been listening instead of studying, (it wasn’t the time), he shrugged.

"Well it’s  _technically_  a sin. I mean She won’t send you downside just on it, but you know. Fine print.”

"That’s not what I meant." he said, rubbing the back of his neck, and suddenly Sock realized what he’d really been asking.

"Hey, hot stuff." he said, his teeth a long band of upwards curving white on his face. "Want to make out?"

The look Jonathan gave him in response was so relieved and then followed by something so filthy it ought to be a sin. Maybe it was, technically, he thought before his mind was otherwise occupied.

* * *

Jonathan rubbed his eyes as he stared at the Pre-Cal test before him, his mind a blank but too tired to panic.

"The period is pi, you know." Came an overly chipper voice to his right. "Since it’s tangent. Sine over cosine. Duh."

He glared at the demon, but a part of him knew he was right, so he wrote it down. This trend continued throughout the test, Sock happily telling him the answers and him jotting them down. When the bell rang, Jonathan had the foreign feeling of actually thinking he did well on a math test.

"You’re welcome." said Sock obnoxiously as he walked towards his locker.

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “You don’t get to boast. You’re the reason I couldn’t study.” he accused, pulling down the shoulder of his hoodie to reveal a purpleish bruise, half formed. (He didn’t exactly have much experience and somewhat underestimated the damage pointed teeth could do.)

Sock painted an expression of innocence on his face. “I didn’t make you do anything.”

Jonathan snorted. “Whatever. How do you know so much about Trig anyway?” he asked as he took his sandwich out of his locker and began plodding towards lunch.

"Oh. I took that course two, no three years ago. Super easy."

"What, were you some kind of mathlete?"

"Yep! Twice state champion." he said proudly. "I even got these cool medals!" he said, slipping up his sweater to reveal the medals in question, pinned to a yellow shirt, one of them blood splattered, forever stained.

"Nerd." he said, but his tone was affectionate.

"Emo." he countered.

"The emo who’s CDs you will be organizing."

Sock groaned. “I don’t even think I can interact with them without something bad involved.”

"Then you won’t be touching me any time soon." he said with finality.

And so that night a fearsome demon from Hell stacked CDs as he thought about breaking every one of them.

"Stupid ill intent." he muttered, trying to find the debut album, ‘ _Golden Thrones and Silver Cheekbones’,_  among the mountain of plastic. “Stupid Vahalla Soundbox.” Still it was lost to him. He was just about ready to give up when he felt lips press against the side of his neck and a small rectangle placed in his hands.

"Here’s the first one. Next is ‘ _Grave of the Cockroaches_ ’, orange cover.” he said, placing a quick peck to his lips, leaving Sock a slight shade of pink and with a gooey feeling in his stomach.

Maybe this deal wasn’t so bad after all.


End file.
